Past Effect
by staindgrey
Summary: In the wake of Shepard's death, the galaxy must find a new hero to bring the fight to the Reapers. With Collector technology now readily available, Cerberus turns to the past to bring back one of humanity's best for the species's final stand.


Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I pretend to own, either the Mass Effect or Resident Evil/Biohazard franchises. Those are owned by EA/Bioware and Capcom, respectively. That being said, enjoy.

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**Past Effect**

Prologue – Fruit of the Forbidden Tree

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The ember flickered at the end of the cigarette as he sucked death in, taunting fate with a nonchalance that could hardly be found in anything else he did. His eyes glowed likewise in an eerie blue as he exhaled, taking the roll of pure tobacco from his lips. He hated the space station-processed tobacco; real North American stuff from back on Earth was the one thing he still felt was worth the extra expense amidst all the spending and loaning he'd had to do the last few years.

It would be worth it though.

"Sir," a synthesized voice came from nearby, somewhere off to the right. The Illusive Man had somehow forgotten he'd turned his chair to look at his artificial star; perhaps he really had been straining himself too much. He took a glance at his old-fashioned wristwatch—just to confirm he wasn't losing track of his most invaluable resource—then answered the VI.

"Yes."

"Project Gaea is ready to submit their findings from Ground Zero." The voice was monotonous in its speech, but had enough of a human resemblance that the Illusive Man would occasionally forget he was speaking to a program, not a human being.

"Good. Patch them through." His cigarette hanging onto its final gasp of life, he exterminated it in his ashtray, the remnants of smoke gathering around him as the pale orange glow of the quantum entanglement array began to scan him in his seat.

The man wasn't exactly elderly in stature; he'd had enough cybernetic upgrades to assure that he wouldn't look or feel his own age. He carried a sort of power that not many in the galaxy possessed, an aura that said "I own you" to anyone without true resolve. He didn't do it through scare tactics or a front of any kind—he simply _was_.

Soon, a carbon copy image of his chosen operative stood before him, in real time. "Mr. Jacobs," his words were pleasant, but his demeanor was as cold. He lacked the convenience of friendship. "I'm told you have news for me."

The man in the image was a gangly black man, donning a white and gray Cerberus worker's suit, a simple arm band signifying his role as the top line of command of his cell. He had the look of an awkward highschooler with age marks, but he carried himself with a confidence that showed in his near-militaristic stance.

"Yessir. Not nearly what we expected when we were assigned to this, but I figured you should know right away." The Illusive Man nodded silently, giving Jacobs the go ahead to continue. "As I'd sent you before, we've been investigating uses for some of the unknown technology here when eezo is applied. Our experiments, as we intended them, have not been fruitful, however."

"Then what did you find?" He wasn't normally the impatient personality, but Jacobs had always had a penchant for going into story mode when he only really needed the bare facts.

Jacobs's lips curled into a lopsided grin, like a salesman ready to give his reeling-in pitch. "One of the items we found in level 2 we'd assumed was a miniature or prototype mass relay. Its shape and construction seemed very similar, just on an approximate 100,000 to 1 scale. Applying eezo did nothing, but one of my men was able to find a trigger."

"A trigger." His words came out as more of a statement than questioning.

"Yes," Jacobs was getting more and more excited with every syllable that came from his mouth. "We haven't fully tested the item's functions as of yet due to possible ramifications. However, it seems as though this piece of machinery actually _creates _eezo."

The Illusive Man's graying brows perked up at those words, the man being clearly taken aback for a moment. "How did you find this without testing it?"

"Well, we haven't put it through any controlled tests as of yet; I wanted to inform you before we continued. When he set off the trigger, it caught the whole level by surprise." Jacobs began to talk with vibrant hand motions to illustrate what had him so giddy. "The item created what seemed like a super nova, all encased within a mass effect barrier. Another worker, afraid of the item being catastrophic to everyone onboard, quickly disabled it. What was left was... a small trace of eezo."

The Illusive Man stared through the hologram before him, pondering what this meant in the big picture—for Cerberus, and for the Reapers. "You're positive that this was newly formed element zero?" He was more playing devil's advocate to make sure than actually scrutinizing Jacobs's work. "If so, then this is big."

Jacobs replied with an overly enthusiastic nod. "Yes! The item was fully cleaned of all eezo traces before each use, as well as our workers. While testing, we've taken every precaution to keep from contaminating results. So far, we're unsure exactly how the item is powered, or any other constraint it has on productivity. At the moment, I've sent a new scout team to search all levels for like items."

"Good. I assume Solus knows of this?"

"Yessir. He's the one who triggered the reaction."

The Illusive Man varied his cold disposition for a moment, a grin painting itself on his lined face, albeit subtly. "You've done well so far Jacobs. I want you to devote half of your current resources to studying this new development. The other half, split it up among current duties. Stick with that until any new developments present themselves." He slowly pushed himself up off of his chair, standing smugly in his isolated room for only Jacobs to see. "I want a full report on this thing's capabilities in a week's time. At that point, I'll need you and Solus to pay a visit to Earth and personally deliver the news."

"Yessir." The lanky man then walked away from his platform, disappearing from the Illusive Man's view and signing off. The Illusive Man stared into his lounge at nothing in particular for a moment, lost in thought on what this could mean. He reasoned, calculated, already drawing up a plan of attack to get his investors' backing. Now that they'd found something of use financially, it would be easier to generate some credits toward the project.

Shepard's final decision to spare the Collectors' facility was proving to be fruitful after all.


End file.
